^^ Jessie's Stranger above

Chapter 10

I cleaned stations. Stocked supplies. I talked to customers and smiled like I meant it. For a week. It felt oddly natural being there. Boe and Scarlet didn't seem so bad once I had a chance to expect what would come from them. Zeke made it clear in every action he made that he cared, and Charlene never stopped her mothering.

And every night, I'd visit the bar. Every night since he saw where I slept, the stranger hadn't said a word. He studied the room, gave me my booze, but every once in a while, I'd catch those intense eyes on me, searching, reading.

And I still had his flannel.

Not because I needed it. The jacket Charlene had gifted me was warmer than any piece of clothing I'd ever owned. Then why did I still have it? Definitely not because it smelled amazing, like earth and nature and man.

No. I had it because I didn't want to bring up the fact that he'd given it to me. I didn't want to draw attention to how disgustingly, damn sweet that was.

But after a week of working, I had something that would rid me of my need for the stranger once and for all.

A paycheck.

"You should save your money, girl," Mr. Frankfire said for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I'll make more. I've got a job. Once I start tattooing, I'll make over double this in half the time. Besides, I didn't hear you complaining when you were shoving that burger down your throat."

He glared at me, but his lips twisted. "I'm homeless. Of course I ate the damn burger. Doesn't mean you should have bought it. At the very least, you could have gotten one right down the road for a dollar and nineteen cents. Nine dollars for a hamburger!" He scoffed. "What kind of highway robbery are they pushing on people nowadays? There ain't nothin' special about that damn cow! I guarantee you Monsanto pumped the same amount of poison into both of them!"

"Is that what that flavor was? I'm gonna have them dust a little extra of that on mine next time."

If poisonous cows didn't kill me, the look on his face after that comment would.

It was late when we rounded the corner to the bridge, too late for a warm spot, but the night wasn't as bad as the ones of the previous week. My eyes shot to Main Street, and I was overly conscious of the pack on my back. Crumbled in the bottom with the rest of my dirty clothes was a flannel three times my size.

The time had come for me to return it. I'd buy a bottle with my earnings and offer a drink in return. The last thing I needed was to be indebted to someone. Then, after that, I'd buy my booze from the liquor store.

For some reason, my stomach twisted. I couldn't have cared less about the dark stranger with the sharp eyes that cut right through me. He was a dangerous man for the most dangerous of reasons. It had always been about the drink. My continued visits had always been to keep the nightmares away. It'd been over a week since Drake found me in my dreams. The Wild Turkey blackouts had calmed my nerves like no meditation ever could.

That and someone standing guard, inner Jessie whispered.

I ignored her.

"I'll catch up to you," I said, patting Mr. Frankfire's shoulder. I dug the flannel out of my pack, then passed the bag to him. "Keep it for me?"

He grunted and grumbled beneath his breath, but his gnarled fingers closed around the strap and he slung it over his shoulder. "Don't spend all your money."

I grinned at his back as he walked away, then turned to the waiting lights. As I made my trek up the hill and through the brush, a battle waged within my mind. It would be stupid of me to pass up a chance to drink for free each night. I should save my money, hold on to the handout. But I also knew all too well that this could be the fork in my current path that turned my life back to shit. There always seemed to be a man at those, and they were always beautiful.

I shook my head. The new man wasn't that, at least not from what I could see. He was the opposite of Drake. Drake kept his hair short, face smooth. Always immaculate, always clean. Prince Charming on a Harley.

The stranger looked like a wild man.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how different he was compared to every other man I'd encountered. He didn't put on a show. Hell, he barely fucking acknowledged me other than to fill my drink.

I stepped into the bar and almost stepped right back out of it.

His hair was combed and tied at the back of his neck, and the lack of it in his face made his eyes cut deeper than they ever had. He'd trimmed his beard neat enough to reveal a perfectly shaped mouth, and while his clothes weren't any less lumberjack, they were clean and entirely too well fitted.

He was gorgeous. Hands down the most attractive man I'd ever seen. I took back every thought I'd had on the walk over. Drake didn't hold a candle to this man, and it looked like he'd barely tried.

Every lesson I'd ever learned the hard way resurfaced like warning bells.

This was the fork in the road. This man might as well have been holding a sign at the side of it, tempting me into damnation.

I swallowed hard, closed the space between us, and fought to ignore that penetrating gaze. But it was impossible. His gaze burned me up, prickled my skin with awareness.

I stopped an arms length away, desperately needing the distance, and practically shoved the shirt out towards him. "I came to return this," I said, voice hoarse and awkward.

He looked down at the rumpled flannel then back to me. "Keep it."

"No." It came out a bite, a snapping jaw, a warning to stay back. Like a cornered animal, my hackles rose. The hell with buying him a drink. That couldn't be the plan. Not now. Not with him so...

I shoved the shirt into his hand and turned to the bar. "Bottle of Tequila!"

The bartender stood on the opposite side, polishing a glass as he listened to some drunk talk about his problems. He tilted his head back, took one look at me, then turned away.

The stranger tilted his whiskey to his lips then sat it down. "Bottle of Tequila, Paul." His smooth deep voice didn't lift in the slightest, but no sooner did the words leave his lips, the bartender turned and did as bid.

I ground my teeth.

"Paul only hears the people with money. Last time you showed any, it was loose change." His lip twitched.

I snatched a twenty out of my pocket and slapped it down onto the bar.

This time, Paul the asshole, actually looked me in the eye. He nodded his head, the first real acknowledgment I'd gotten from him, and slid the bill into his hand at the same time he placed the alcohol onto the bar.

The stranger smiled. Dammit, he smiled, and with his face more visible, it was enough to knock the panties off a nun. "He's not going to let you take that with you."

I opened my mouth then closed it as he pointed to a sign just behind the bar.

Licensed to sell for here only. No alcohol to be consumed off premises.

Shit.

"That's a lot of Tequila."

I met his gaze and saw a flicker of light in his eyes. Subtle but still there.

He's laughing at me.

"Who says I'm leaving?" I snatched the bottle from the bar and walked to a booth on the opposite side of the room.

I didn't like the fact that my new spot put the exit so far away, nor how the people blocked my view of the front door. But I reassured myself with the fact that I was at least less visible. I slid all the way inside, lifted my hood and huddled in on myself.

My first sip of the tequila was like a kick to the throat. How many more morning dry heaves could I survive before my esophagus gave out?

Hyper aware and on edge, I noticed the second he moved, and as he slowly made his way over and took the seat across from me, my heart did things worthy of a doctor's visit.

I wanted to snap at him. Tell him to go away, but my throat had dried. My voice was gone. I bit the inside of my cheek, did my best not to look at his face.

It's a nice face, inner Jessie chimed.

I shifted.

Our new position put him directly across from me, and although I'd sat with him before, this was different. He didn't turn to scan the room. He didn't pause to take a drink. He just... watched me.

My neck heated, then my ears, then my cheeks.

Holy fucking shit...

Am I blushing?

I did not blush. Blushing was for embarrassed children, and young girls too stupid to see through a man's bullshit.

I took a long, heavy drink and chanced a glance at him over the bottle.

His lip twitched.

"Why are you staring at me? Aren't you supposed to be guarding the damn door?"

He studied me a long moment. "Is that what you think I do? Guard the door?"

I didn't answer.

"Do you like thinking I'm guarding it?"

I narrowed my eyes.

He lifted the bottle with three fingers and the liquid swished as it tilted to his lips. When he sat it down, his chest lifted on a heavy breath. "You're interesting."

"Is that so?"

"I noticed that you cleaned up and got some new clothes."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. "Well, I'd fucking assume so, since it's been a week and you stalk the world."

He smirked. "So I take it your new job is going well."

What is this a fucking date?

"I liked you better when you didn't talk."

"Noted." He leaned back and took a longer pull from his bottle. "How'd a girl like you end up under a bridge?"

"Walked."

His lip twitched again, but everything else about him exuded absolute calm. On the table, his fingers idly turned the bottle in a slow, continuous circle. If I didn't know any better, which I didn't, I'd swear he was trying to hypnotize me.

"Why are you sleeping under it?"

"I get tired." I met his gaze head on, tilted my head and fluttered my lashes. Bring it, fucker. This isn't my first fork in the road.

He took a drink to cover his smile, but dimpled cheeks and laughing eyes gave it away. The bottle made a thud as he sat it down and leaned forward. His expression fell serious. "What are you hiding from?"

I scanned his face, clenched jaw to piercing stare.

"I came here to forget," I said. "I don't need reminding."

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think of the changes I made! Much ❤️